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WHITE   1)0 G

was tightly wound with the robes and skins and
bound with rawhide-thongs.

We were on the bald prairie and there was no
tree on which to stretch his scaffold; so we
marched a distance out on the plains and laid his
scaffold on the highest point of land—a butte—
that our eyes could see in the vicinity of that
country. Just before we left him two men took
White Dog's favourite pony5 one of the two grey-
and-black pintos we had taken from the front of
the teepee of the Crow Chief3 and led it up to the
body and shot it. The pony was frightened of
the body and would not be led near it; so the
men had to tie a fire-bag around its eyes? to
blindfold it.

That was the sad end of our great medicine-
man White Dog, Nevermore would he charm
us with his mysticism; nevermore would we hear
his deep guttural voice shouting to the spirits who
had so unexpectedly come and taken him away
from us. But he had a worthy successor in the
Blackfoot man of marvel known as Wezecan—
Yellow Teepee—who soon was to wield over us
his famous Tower of the Thunder*, which has
become renowned in the history of the Blackfoot
Nation. And, nowa with our heads still bent in
mourning, we resumed our journey in quest of
the buffalo we had heard of.

Several days later, as we were making our way
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